Leesie327 says: So you admit it? That look on your face of total awe that she’s draped across your chest isn’t air brushed?
liv2div says: what are you talking about? that stupid woman got us to pose
Leesie327 says: She posed your hands? You’re practically feeling her up in the picture.
liv2div says: that’s crass…I can’t believe you’re accusing me like this…you know me better than that
Leesie327 says: Oh, yeah. I know you pretty damn well.
liv2div says: calm down…the creep beat her up…I actually helped her get away from him… it really was a miracle…your kind of miracle
Leesie327 says: You don’t know anything about my kind of miracles.
liv2div says: maybe I know more than you think
Leesie327 says: So, how grateful was she? Scale of 1 to 10?
liv2div says: stop it…this isn’t you…what’s going on?
Leesie327 says: You’re breaking my heart again.
liv2div says: no, babe, you’re making a huge mistake…let me call you
Leesie327 says: No way. I’m incinerating all the stuff you bought me.
liv2div says: you won’t even hear me out?
Leesie327 says: I’m so gullible. I believed you—all that stuff about wanting to get married. The license—that’s rich. Was the ring even real? How many Thai chicks have there been?
liv2div says: I told you…none…do you think this has been easy for me?
Leesie327 says: What else have you lied about?
liv2div says: why would I lie to you about anything?
Leesie327 says: So I fake marry you, and we do it, and I’m ruined forever.
liv2div says: that’s insane…you sound like a raving nutcase…if I just wanted to do it, there’s a lot easier ways to find a partner
Leesie327 says: I think you want to see me fall. You said that—remember?
liv2div says: you make me sound like a sex addict or something…freak, Leese…I’m not the bad guy…you know me
Leesie327 says: I thought I did.
liv2div says: I’m dialing…pick up
liv2div says: pick up
liv2div says: PICK UP
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #10
DIVE BUDDY: solo
DATE: 12/30
DIVE #:—
LOCATION: Tap Lamu
DIVE SITE: Queen Nautica
WEATHER CONDITION: night
WATER CONDITION: tidal wave
DEPTH: bottomless
VISIBILITY: 0
WATER TEMP.: ice again
BOTTOM TIME:
COMMENTS:
I call again. Leesie’s phone goes right to voicemail. She turned it off. Freak. She really means this.
She must think I’m so vile. How else could she believe all that? I wanted to do exactly what she thinks, but I didn’t. That deserves some credit. A ton of credit. All the credit out there.
Damn her. If she won’t even hear me out. Just damn her. Damn her. Damn her.
If her God is real, I hope he hears me. She acts so righteous, but she wants to believe I’m evil. What a hypocrite. Isn’t jealousy a deadly sin? It’s the worst one in my book. Next to cheating. I didn’t cheat, but she’s so jealous she won’t even try to see the real picture.
Damn her.
I hook the chain around my neck with my finger and lift her ring from under my T-shirt. Clutch it. Yank—not hard enough. I get ready to yank again and break the chain.
Freeze.
My hand unfurls.
Her diamond sparkles brilliant and white in the hot tropical sun. Freak.
She will wear this.
I’m not ready to give up on her. On us. On everything she means to me—no matter what I mean to her.
This won’t last.
She’ll be back. Even if I did what she thinks, she’d still be back. She’s got me like a disease with no cure.
No.
That’s me. I’ve got her. I’m sick with Leesie. I tuck the ring back under my t-shirt. I wish I could rip it off and chuck it into the bay. Or sell it and give the dough to Suki to help her people. Not that they need my help, but it would be better than wearing it, hanging on to senseless hope that this will blow over. Or that she’ll marry me even though I’m the infidel.
But how can I release that hope? It’s all I have. It’s all I want.
I could try to replace it with Suki. Go live with her and the Moken. Have beautiful Asian/Anglo babies with her. Dedicate my life to saving their archipelago. I wonder how hard it is to immigrate to Myanmar? Life in a kabang wouldn’t be so bad. Simple.
But what would happen when it was time for our babies to go to school? I guess I could teach them. Start a school for all those giggling brown children flowing over, under, and around their watery households.
I look down and trace the outline of Leesie’s ring safe under my shirt again.
No. That could be a good life. But it isn’t my life.
My life is with Leesie.
Somehow.
She has to believe me.
Chapter 27
GAME PLAN
LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM #64, MEMORIAM
Don’t remember
flying back to school
but I must
have.
I’m here in my dorm
room.
I must look a
wreck.
Even Tawni’s being
nice.
Kanyon dumped her last
weekend—got tired of
waiting
for what we all assumed
she was putting out.
She cries herself to sleep—
shares her Kleenex with me.
Nice.
Mom calls.
Asks about boys in my new
classes.
I dropped
scuba.
Took my pretty pink gear
back to Gram’s.
Couldn’t go in the house.
I remember that much.
I can’t seem to
remember
my new schedule.
Boys? Is Mom kidding?
I’m barely hanging on to
A’s.
And she wants boys?
I dumped my creative
writing class, too.
Nothing left in my soul to
bear—bare? Doesn’t matter,
either will do me
fine.
I’m empty both ways.
I sign up for mission prep Sunday School
class.
Two more years and I can
go
share the gospel with people
who want to hear,
people who won’t lie to me,
people who won’t shatter my heart,
people who I can
believe
in.
Chapter 28
BLOGPRINTS
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #10
DIVE BUDDY: solo
DATE: 02/17
DIVE #: lost count
LOCATION: Tap Lamu
DIVE SITE: Queen Nautica
WEATHER CONDITION: hot
WATER CONDITION: there
DEPTH: surface
VISIBILITY: muddy
WATER TEMP.: 80s
BOTTOM TIME: too long
COMMENTS:
I’m not logging much anymore. What’s the point? It’s all on my dive computer. Whale shark season is coming up. I’ll log that if I see one. That’s why I came. Stupid freaking whale sharks.
I try to find Leesie online every time we’re in port. Six weeks and nothing. She’s got me blocked. I’ve sent her about a thousand emails. The last batch came back undelivered—no such address. Her phone is never on. Maybe she did burn it.
Six weeks and I’m still waiting for a sign. She’s never been silent this long. Even last summer when we were officially broken up, we were still friends. We kep
t it to casual contact, but it was always there, a tender current I could hook into whenever I needed it.
I can still feel her—faintly. Something remains. Six weeks? Maybe I’m a fool. But six years wouldn’t phase me.
Suki called. Not me. Captain Jean. She says the illegal dynamite fishing is spreading out from the banks. If they decimate the Mergui—the Moken’s islands—like they did Burma banks, it will destroy them. She wants us to document it. Get the word out.
Captain Jean calls us together, scratches his head, and says, “This won’t be good for business. Bad enough word about the banks is getting out. Myanmar won’t like it if we’re involved with this effort. They’ve been working hard to get the Moken to open up their turtle festival for us. This could ruin everything—they might even stop our cruises.”
I sit forward and fold my arms across my chest. “I’m doing it.”
I was voted hunk of the month on that stupid travel woman’s blog. Who knew she was blogospherically huge? Thousands and thousands of followers? And that they would all copy and cross post me and Suki all over the net. Time I got something for her ruining my freaking life.
“What was that?” Captain Jean and Claude are both staring at me.
“Screw you. I’m doing it.” I flip open my laptop and email Karen. We’re in port, so I can steal Wi-Fi from our neighbors. I saved Karen and her camera. She’ll fix me up with photos.
Captain Jean frowns. “I could fire you for this.”
“Fine by me.”
“Well, just don’t mention Queen Nautica.”
“Deal.”
I fire off a second email to the blog woman. She’s even more famous now thanks to me. I thought she was just another one of those mid-life crisis wives whose husband dives because he’s trying to stay young, and she dives to hang onto him.
She responds right away. I get to guest post.
Great. Now I have to write it.
I’m no activist. Never thought I’d find myself telling other people what I think. Dad would shake his head, but mom would love it.
LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 03/21 12:47 AM
Leesie327 says: Look what I found.
Kimbo69 says: Oh, my gosh…he looks amazing.
Leesie327 says: Read what he wrote.
Kimbo69 says: Okay, okay. I’m wiping the drool off my chin and reading.
Leesie327 says: He must still be with her.
Kimbo69 says: I love this…especially that image of the kids in the water like a school of fish. He does sound like he’s really seen it. You never told me he can write like this.
Leesie327 says: He’s amazing when he’s passionate about something. I should be glad he found something to believe in.
Kimbo69 says: The tone is so pensive. You have to go back and read all those emails he sent you.
Leesie327 says: I deleted them. I don’t blame him for falling in love with her. Why couldn’t he tell me?
Kimbo69 says: Because he’s a stupid guy, and all guys are idiots.
Leesie327 says: Amen.
LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 4/11 1:32 AM
Gr8phil says: I googled Michael. You’re right. He’s all over the place.
Leesie327 says: I don’t want to talk about it.
Gr8phil says: Okay, I’m sorry. Listen to this. I have a big surprise for you.
Leesie327 says: Great. I need some good news.
Gr8phil says: I’ve got an interview with the assistant, assistant, assistant BYU football coach.
Leesie327 says: Did you tell me you got accepted? I don’t remember.
Gr8phil says: Like FIVE flipping times. Krystal got tuition for a year—almost as good as you.
Leesie327 says: If I don’t start remembering things, my scholarship will only be for a year. I’ll have to get a loan.
Gr8phil says: I’ll get you an application when I’m down there talking to the financial aid people.
Leesie327 says: Down here? What?
Gr8phil says: Dad and I are driving down in the pickup to bring you home. I already dibs driving through Montana.
Leesie327 says: Dad? Really? That’s too awesome.
Gr8phil says: We’ll be there in eight flipping days.
Leesie327 says: Right in the middle of my finals.
Gr8phil says: I’ll help you study. Just warn your roommates—hands off the bro. He’s taken.
Chapter 29
MAN OF GOD
LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM #65, BACK TO LIFE?
“Guy at the door for you, Leese.”
Dayla’s eyebrows dance hormonal excitement.
“Oh, my gosh, woman. I told you—
it’s my brother.”
I throw my pillow at her
and push the mound of study notes
off my lap. The words I crammed
into my head for the past six hours
float out my ears and drip down
the walls.
There is a guy leaning against the door frame
with his back turned,
but it’s so not,
“Phil?”
My mystery man spins—
grinning at me like
I should know him.
“Are you kidding?
Jaron?”
The cute boy that collected six girls
to write him on his mission
and promised to marry every one but me
is buried somewhere in the
recesses of the man of God he’s become.
I run, and he catches me in a hug
not quite as brotherly as it used to be.
“You’re home? Nobody told me.”
I squeeze him tight.
“Surprised? I came instead of your dad. Okay?”
His voice is low and sweet in my ear. He doesn’t
release me from the hug.
“Sure.” I whisper, too. “Where’s Phil?”
A slow grin, that makes him look more
like the boy of my eternal crushing,
spreads across his face.
“I dropped him off for his interview.
I don’t think he’d want to witness this—”
His strong fingers push my hair back from my face.
He leans forward—
My eyes close—
His mouth presses on mine with way more
warmth than that one solitary good-bye kiss
consolation prize he left me with.
“I waited two years to do that again.”
“Nuh-uh.”
His lips are back. “You were the last
girl I kissed—”
“You kissed two other girls before
they set you apart. I saw.”
He laughs. “Guilty.”
I lean forward and test my lips against his.
He strokes my hair. “You’ve grown up.”
“Lots.”
I touch his face. The next kiss
is mutual, consensual, prolonged.
“You’re the first girl I’ve kissed post-mission.
That one is true.”
I start trying my hardest. He’s waited
two years for this—got to make it good.
He does his best, too. But it’s strange.
Like we’re both trying out for something.
And don’t quite fit the role.
His mouth shifts back to my ear.
“I want you to be the last.”
I try to smile and be happy—try so hard
to feel what I need to feel.
Jaron is everything I should want.
But I’m so, so empty.
He cups my face between his
hands, won’t let my eyes leave his.
“I figured it out on my mission.
My dad was right.
I want to spend
eternity
with you.”
I go limp in his arms and draw away.
“Don’t tease me like that. I’m no
t
up for a joke.”
He draws me close, barricades me safe
behind his arms and shoulders and chest,
presses his cheek to my temple.
“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”